


Codex: Romance

by Nebulad



Series: Sataareth [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aromantic Iron Bull, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, No Sexual Content, baths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Only you can really judge how you feel, Chief. Out here there’s no one to decide that for you.”</p><p>Krem wasn’t entirely correct— Bull didn’t know how he felt, but for once it didn’t have anything to do with the absence of the Qun in his life. He’d always been like this, always lacked romantic attraction to people. Sure, the Qun had never forced him to think about it like other Thedosian cultures had, but they hadn’t really been the source of it. He knew plenty Qunari who struggled to keep a hold on their romantic attraction for the sake of their role; they’d lost a lot of good people over the years to nothing more than them not being able to pretend like they didn’t have those feelings anymore.</p><p>Bull had found the Qun to be a perfectly comfortable place in that regard. He never had to try and pretend to feel like he didn’t, and sex was regulated so he didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. <i>Tama</i> was what’d fucked everything up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Codex: Romance

Tamassran was stretching out in the yard with Vivienne, both of them readying for practice. Tama’s aim was slightly right biased and she wanted the Enchanter’s help to fix it, and Vivienne would never say so, but _her_ spells lacked the ferocity of an apostate’s casting. She would watch the Vashoth cast and attempt to imitate without ever saying so out loud.

Bull watched them from the shade where the Chargers were running drills. He’d finished his regimen and had sat down to give his leg a bit of a break— it was gunna rain soon and he didn’t want to strain it while it was acting up unless he absolutely had to. Besides, Stitches would be on him about the special exercise routine they’d devised and he’d have to sit through an hour long lecture on not overexerting himself (from a human to a Qunari— Tal-Vashoth).

Tama went first, with her staff tucked into the crook of her elbow and slung behind her back while she focused her magic with her opposite hand. He could see the way she flourished was causing the spell to hang right, but so did Vivienne so he didn’t bother to mention anything.

She didn’t like using a staff, he knew, but it helped to ground her in the moment and direct her fire. It was more of a support than a focus, holding her body in the correct position— a habit from her dad more than likely. _Saarebas_ weren’t permitted any sort of focus, so the staff had to be an afterthought for balance. If he had to guess, he would have said a Tal-Vashoth ally had taught her the finer points of channeling mana. Tama didn’t allude to having much experience with the other races in Thedas, and he imagined it’d be pretty fucking dangerous for a family of Vashoth to get too friendly with anyone who didn’t understand their situation— especially when you put two ‘apostates’ into the mix.

“Chief, we’re headed out to do laps,” Krem reported from his left. It used to unnerve him when people would come up on his side where he couldn’t see them, but he was a warrior. He’d had to either train himself to hear people coming or take a hit on his left and die.

“Got a question for you,” he said, patting the bench next to him. Krem was frowning suspiciously when he came into view, and gestured for the rest of the Chargers to start without him.

“What is it?” By the time they’d met, Bull had pretty much been out of questions about the south. There was only so much you could ask before immersion took over the learning experience; besides some absent prodding about Tevinter which Krem either hadn’t been willing or hadn’t been able to answer, there wasn’t much to ask him anyway.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a trick. I wanted to ask about romance,” he said. There was no point dancing around it, and in truth he couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t get why southerners were so _touchy_ about the subject if so many of them were so obsessed with it. Sex and romance were _everywhere_ for these people— shit even their _religion_ was based on some mortal woman hooking up with a god for some reason— and yet none of them wanted to talk about it.

“Not really sure I should be the one to answer that,” Krem said uncertainly.

“Well I get it in _theory,”_ Bull defended. “I’m not asking you for _tips.”_ He knew exactly the motions to go through with Tama. She liked flowers, she liked shiny little trinkets, she was a cuddler… there were a thousand ways he could wine and dine her real easy. He didn’t wanna put on that play for her though. There was something shallow about it, all the storybook romances where some prince swooped in to dazzle some poor girl. It was first grade easy shit. Sometimes it was fucking _poetry._

“Her Worship is still probably a better person to ask regarding your uh. Private business.”

“Krem, I’m not giving you a play-by-play either.”

“Can never be too careful, Chief. What’s your question, then?”

“You ever _been_ in love?” he asked. That was the crux of it; he knew he loved Krem. He knew he loved the Chargers. That was easy shit— hell he’d abandoned his culture for them. He’d turned his back on everything he’d been fighting for since he was born for them, of course he loved them. Tama was different, because she didn’t… feel the same.

“Sure I have. You mean— non-platonically, right?” he asked. Bull nodded but didn’t offer anything else for the moment. He’d get an answer from Krem, and an honest one, and then… what? Did he _want_ to be romantically in love with the Inquisitor? Would be be disappointed if it turned out he wasn’t? Relieved? Where would that put them? He had the feeling that she wasn’t feeling very platonic about their situation anymore, but she was romantic by nature. It was something she’d always had.

“So… how do you know that?” he asked. Krem shrugged which was the goddamn _opposite_ of a straight answer.

“It’s a feeling, you know?”

“If I did, would I be asking?” he asked, looking down at his LT. Krem snorted.

“Yeah you’d probably be missing that context… I don’t know Chief. It’s like how you feel about friends, mostly, but different,” he shrugged helplessly and Bull frowned, still watching Tama practice. “Sometimes it’s different, anyway.”

“You’re bein’ _real_ helpful here Krem. Go do your laps,” he said, shaking his head.

“Only you can really judge how you feel, Chief. Out here there’s no one to decide that for you.” His second stood up, nodding his head before rushing off to catch Dalish on her third lap around the Keep. It was hard in the snow and with the hills, but it was better than getting in the way of the Templars.

Krem wasn’t entirely correct— Bull didn’t know how he felt, but for once it didn’t have anything to do with the absence of the Qun in his life. He’d always been like this, always lacked romantic attraction to people. Sure, the Qun had never forced him to think about it like other Thedosian cultures had, but they hadn’t really been the source of it. He knew plenty Qunari who struggled to keep a hold on their romantic attraction for the sake of their role; they’d lost a lot of good people over the years to nothing more than them not being able to pretend like they didn’t have those feelings anymore.

Bull had found the Qun to be a perfectly comfortable place in that regard. He never had to try and pretend to feel like he didn’t, and sex was regulated so he didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings (Thedas at large was a lot different in that way). _Tama_ was what’d fucked everything up— and even that was unfair, because she wasn’t _doing_ anything. She never asked him for anything that he wouldn’t have offered a friend anyway. She laughed and teased and drank with him. She talked, she listened… but it wasn’t the same.

Maybe it _was_ the intimacy that was confusing things. He’d never usually done anything with friends, because under the Qun you just didn’t— _that_ was where his Qun training intertwined with his orientation. He hadn’t loved Tama, but he’d respected her, and now?

Now he didn’t fucking know, and that was the problem. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings or keep her with him if she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but he didn’t want to break it off because he assumed she wasn’t getting anything out of the relationship.

Tama released a fireball that finally hit the training dummy squarely, and waved her hand to banish the flames before they were short one scarecrow. Vivienne said something while gesturing to the Keep and disappeared, presumably to take a bath after the heavy flame work. Fighting around Tama always meant getting overheated, which Vivienne was usually a great foil for.

The Inquisitor turned to him, and he wondered if she’d noticed him sitting there when she started. She flopped down next to him, leaning against his right knee so he could see her. Her _antaam-sar_ was sweaty but unsinged— he’d always wondered how she managed to cast so much fire without ever burning herself.

“Did you see me?” she asked, looking up. She had cow eyes, but he’d never tell her that to her face. He couldn’t be sure she’d take it as a compliment, and it was one.

“I did. I’d like to see you do it on a moving target, but you’ve got a good groundwork to start with,” he said, reaching down to run his thumb across the ridges of her horns. She reached down to her hip and brought up a canteen, taking a long swig of it. She offered him some but he shook his head— he hadn’t really done anything strenuous.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” For a second he was worried that she’d somehow heard his talk with Krem. He didn’t want to bring it up with her until he had an answer for her— he didn’t want to hurt her feelings by pissing back and forth either.

“Well, you aren’t outside shouting at the Chargers to go faster. You’ve been sitting here since I came out… does your leg hurt?” she asked. Relief swept through his lungs and he tugged at her hair a little— long, straight, and kind of a cream-white. He liked that about her too, but he wasn’t sure if wanting to touch someone’s hair was romantic. He didn’t make a point of touching Krem’s hair, but he liked it just fine too.

“Leg’s fine, boss. It’s gunna rain,” he said, nodding at a group of dark clouds to the north. “Always acts up when it rains.” She cooed a little sitting up next to him— she smelled sweaty and distantly like a burnt out campfire— and teased him down to kiss her. It still felt good, less like guilt and confusion and more like… well, like kissing Tama had always felt.

“You want to go soak it?” she asked. That meant a bath— there was one great big tub that was theirs alone that Josephine had procured with a knowing little smile and an immense amount of discretion. He really had to hand it to Ruffles. She got her job done and even managed to avoid killing people (he wasn’t sure he would afford _half_ the fucks she dealt with the same courtesy).

“Yeah, you just gotta… gimmie a few minutes. Stairs,” he said, shrugging.

“I can…” She held up her hands and they glowed orange. It wasn’t fire, but heat therapy.

“Nah, you go on ahead. I’ll be right there,” he promised. It felt sort of good when she worried about him— he knew the Chargers did, but they kept it to themselves out of respect for their captain. The Qun had never worried about him— he would perform his duty or he wouldn’t. Tama was different, and it was starting to drive him crazy.

. . . . .

Bull was drinking something pink because Tama told him that hot baths could dehydrate. He was pretty sure there was alcohol in it, but it was otherwise sweet and sort of sour around the edges— and pink, which was _really_ winning it points.

She was half asleep on his chest, humming a bit and playing with the lines of his tattoos. Her hair was pulled up to keep it from getting wet and the whole moment wouldn’t have bothered him if he wasn’t so _stuck_ on this feeling. As it stood he tensed and relaxed alternatively because it was so… _romantic._ There were candles. She was warm.

“You going to tell me what’s bothering you yet?” she asked, not looking up.

“Is something supposed to be bugging me?” he returned. It was worth a shot.

“I wasn’t trained as a spy but I _do_ have eyes,” she said, tilting her head so her horns nudged under his chin. “You’re nervous, and you’re a lot tenser than you usually are once we’re alone. Is it me?” She sat up straighter to look at him. He grunted.

“No— kind of, but you aren’t doing anything,” he admitted. She gave him a _look_ and he supposed he wasn’t being very comforting. “What are we, boss?” he asked.

“Vashoth,” she answered without missing a beat, and he would have splashed her if he thought he could get away with it.

“Funny. I meant—”

“I know what you meant. Why is it up to me?” she asked, settling back down.

“Because you know what you’re doing,” he groused. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to explain. “I don’t usually _do_ relationships, and under the Qun I never had to. Now there’s you and no Qun for me to fall back on so… I don’t know how you want me to feel.” Krem had probably been right that she was the one to talk to about this shit, but it’d be a cold goddamn day in Seheron before he told him that.

“I usually want you to be happy,” she said, and he exhaled irritably. She was teasing him because she didn’t get how much this was bothering him. “I’m being serious,” she argued, doing that weird thing where she could tell what he was thinking. He usually associated the trait with _tamassrans_ which… he guessed would kind of be ironic.

“Do you love me?” he asked, and it sounded more accusatory than he would have liked.

“Of course.” That simple.

“How do you _know?”_ Maybe Krem was shooting the shit about there being no way for him to tell. Maybe Tama would give him a checklist— _warm fuzzies, butterflies, dry mouth, headache, sneezing…_

“I know because I’ve always felt romantic love.” He remembered telling her in Haven that the Qun didn’t teach romance, and that it’d been just fine by him. He loved his friends and that was enough. “I can’t give you a list of symptoms, if that’s what you want. It’s not that different from being friends with someone.”

“You and Krem should get together and have a party where you just give each other vague answers that don’t solve anything,” he grunted. She laughed, sitting up to kiss his face.

“Bull, I separate love and sex very distinctly. I don’t have sex with people I don’t love, and that’s how I know I love you. That’s it.” That was just about as helpful as _it’s like friendship, but not._ “I know it doesn’t help you, and it’s because I’m not you.”

“I don’t even know where to start.” The Qun didn’t give him a basis for identifying individual feelings (he wasn’t even supposed to ask, let alone _feel_ them), and his observance of human rituals… well, he didn’t think they’d apply in the same way to Vashoth. You just couldn’t woo a human Duchess in the same way as an elven farm girl. Normally he’d just say _fuck it_ — courtship was a waste of time when you knew someone wanted to fuck.

But he hadn’t developed whatever him and Tama were by offering sex. He’d thought about it, but he figured from the start she’d say no, and he’d been right (he usually was). He’d built up their friendship, taken it nice and slow for her. It was relaxing in the same way he figured sex might have been for someone else.

“Do you want to stop doing what we are doing?” she asked.

“No— do you?” That was what was important to him at that moment. He had plenty of time to work himself out, but he didn’t want to keep her tied down if she wasn’t happy.

“Nope. Is that enough?” He shrugged.

“I love you,” he tried, and it felt strange to say. It didn’t help in the way he hoped it would— it didn’t feel right, but it didn’t make him feel wrong either.

“As long as you’re happy Bull,” she said, sliding back down to use him as a pillow again. His leg had stopped hurting with the heat, and he could hear the rain pounding against the stone castle.

“Do you love me?” he asked. He was fishing for it, but it would still count.

“Yes, I love you,” she reminded him with a laugh. _That_ felt exactly how he wanted it to, and maybe that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so romantic attraction isnt permitted under the qun and bull str8 up tells you that he cant conceive of why anyone would want to fuck their friends (outside of just fucking your friends, evidently, but I mean-- he doesnt get why people would have romantic relationships. but he's also romanceable and we dont ever see that struggle from him. i just have a lot of feelings about the bull, k?
> 
> nebulaad.tumblr.com is me, and I would prefer if you found this fic on tumblr if you reblogged it from there instead of one of those stream blogs. fuck stream blogs.


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